


(Dis)closure.

by Charona



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Apologies, Coffee, Dreams and Nightmares, Epiphanies, Fights, Hangover, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jealousy, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Up, Pining, Road Trips, Specks of fluff, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wedding Crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charona/pseuds/Charona
Summary: Nico gets to know about Kevin’s engagement under the worst circumstances imaginable – right before the race, publicly and with six days until the wedding. Nico tells himself, it’s none of his business and it reallyisn’t. Still, he’s hit by the realisation what he’s about to lose and how violently he has to bite back a pained hiss.But what if he fails to forget? What if eats him alive? What if his vacation to Croatia doesn’t provide enough distraction? What if the idea of driving all the way up to Denmark and crash his wedding manifests itself in his mind? And most of all – what if he’s actually going to do it?[set after the Hungary GP 2019]





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK!
> 
> And I'm back with a story about Kevin and Nico, my favourite vitims for the predictable future (at least!)!  
Special thanks goes out to **londonbird** for reading it beforehand, for being a source of inspiration and motivation as usual and watching this baby grow from the very start ;)
> 
> And a HUGE thanks to **RosaNautica** (tumblr: @rosygoldendawn) for the insane cover!  
I'm still speechless!

Nico isn’t one for dreaming.  
As a kid he didn’t understand the concept of nightmares, the fear of monsters in his closet or under his bed. His classmates would look tired and frightened to the bones whenever they’ve watched horror movies without their parents knowing. A friend would tell him about dreaming of falling or drowning, but Nico just shrugged it off and it never occurred to him as a reason to cry for his parents in the middle of the night.  
Even as a grown-up, an adrenaline junkie, a racer, he never had nightmares about crashing or missing a breaking point or losing. He just didn’t dream in general. He rarely woke up in the morning questioning what his subconscious was trying to tell him at night.

But lately Nico has started to dream. Strange and weird dreams and they all revolve around one single person, Nico hasn’t even thought about before that. But now _he_ is on his mind, constantly. Grey eyes, calm voice, soft hands. Hands, which his own treacherous subconscious places on his own cheeks in his dreams. A pair of lips grazing his own tenderly, the very same lips that accused him ruthlessly over two years ago.  
_It doesn’t make sense_  
The worst thing is, that Nico forbids himself diving into the analysis of his recurring dreams of grey, softness, touches so strictly, that they come back even more frequently and with more force each time. A constant reminder of what kick-started the whole disaster, this spiral of dreams and waking up trembling and annoyed with himself.  
_He is on his mind._

Ever since that goddamn pre-race meeting in Hungary. Not 2017, that collision he regrets more than anything else in his life by now, but 2019, the pre-race meeting and _him_ standing there five meters away and at the same time as unreachable and remote as ever.  
He remembers Grosjean mentioning a certain name, a big event, Denmark and Nico _feels_ himself turning around to the Frenchman rather than actually making the conscious decision to do so. He does it every night.  
“What’s going on?”, he hears himself ask and sees Grosjean’s illusive smile.  
“Oh, you haven’t heard? He is getting married in the summer break. Actually, it’s a miracle you don’t know about it yet. Well, you two never talk, so maybe it’s not that big of a surprise after all.”  
Grosjean shrugs, Nico blinks, eyebrows raised.  
“Who- Who are we talking about?”  
Now Grosjean snorts a laugh and shakes his head.  
“Kevin, of course. He finally made the big step. I’m already looking forward to meeting the Misses and hopefully children later on.”  
From that moment on his brain offers him two different outcomes of the dream: He just leaves this outer bodily experience as if a bubble would break. Or he dreams about walking up to Magnussen with wide, lounging steps, grabbing him by the back of his neck and smashing their mouths together.  
Both images make waking up extremely unpleasant and that’s why Nico decided to leave the circus for a while and flee to Croatia for a short vacation.  
He drowns his brain in alcohol until it’s too numb to pelt him with any dreams at all and the one or other gorgeous model tumbles into bed with him – drunk or sober.

Just like today.

Nico opens his eyes and is hit by nausea as if it was a brick. He groans and covers his face with his arm. His brain feels like it’s going to spontaneously explode in an instant. _Too much alcohol_, he thinks with gritted teeth and has to bite back a chuckle. _Too much_ has kind of been his middle name over the past few days.  
Nico sniffles and tries to sit up, but realises that his left side is weighed down by a sleeping form.  
He groans, more annoyed than tired this time, and detangles himself from the naked blond beauty he hooked up with someplace fancy yesterday. He tries to recall what had happened and through a thick vail of sleepiness and an already forming migraine he makes out some vague images. A party venue, lots of cocktails, beautiful women craving for his attention, his phone sinking to the bottom of a designer pool with a softly bubbling noise.  
_Why would I drown my phone?_  
His own brain doesn’t answer him, so Nico staggers to his feet with wobbly legs instead and stumbles into the bathroom.

Cold water hits his face and forehead when he leans over the sink and washes remnants of sleep and sticky confetti from his skin. It momentarily removes the veil of tiredness and a massive hangover from the blurred events of the previous night and Nico groans, before spitting out cold water and the taste of stale Sangria.  
His reflection in the mirror looks hollowed, strained and old.  
_So much for vacation, sunbaths and uncomplicated sex._  
Images flash across his inner eye and Nico shudders beneath the whirring air condition.  
A pair of piercing dark grey eyes, a soft smile decorating full lips, a delicate neck sitting on slim and well-sculpted shoulders.

Nico bites his tongue until it hurts and turns off the water, resting his arms on the sides of the sink for another second.  
_He’s getting married. So what?!_

He leaves the bathroom, sorts out the messy pile of clothes on the floor and slips into a fresh shirt, before turning towards the door. He checks his pockets for his phone and rolls his eyes at himself for having been such an idiot while being totally shitfaced.  
He writes a to-do-list mentally – buying a new phone, searching for his mates and starting the day off properly with breakfast and another bucket of sangria.  
For a split second Nico contemplates adding waking up the blond French model in his bed and abandons the idea again. _She’s a big girl, she can handle it._

He leaves the hotel room and trudges down the hallway until he finally enters the streets of the small Croatian town. He and his friends decided to lay low for this summer break’s trip, somewhere quiet, where their benders and water fights would be the biggest disturbance for residents. Somewhere where Nico’s last name was more often reason for funny typos in reservations than fans camping outside the small hotel. Somewhere where Nico’s ever-milling thoughts could take a break and his brain wouldn’t bombard him with a myriad questions concerning his professional future and his private misery.  
_Well, how did that work out so far?_  
At least his brain is sober enough to think again, even it is a sarcastic comment.  
Nico shakes off the thought and begins to process his to-do-list.

An hour later and now armed with a cup of strong coffee, a beer bottle in the wide back pocket of his shorts, a new smartphone and a pair of cheap sunglasses Nico reaches the shore. The broad brick wall dividing the sandy beach from the still relatively empty sidewalk is chilly and the weather-beaten stone scratches over his calves, when he hauls himself up the wall.  
Nico closes his eyes and clings to his coffee like a drowning man. The sun stings in his eyes and his stomach rumbles unpleasantly.

He activates the smartphone, inserts the new SIM-cart and checks his mails while drinking his (admittedly terrible) coffee.  
His thoughts draw lazy circles through his brain, swaying from drowning himself in the Mediterranean Sea to going home and doing something more productive with his time. Exercising, going through the valid offerings from different teams yet again, drowning himself in his own pool.

Nico scrolls through his re-stored contact list, when the memory hits him like a brick.  
“Fuck!” he murmurs and massages his pasty and throbbing temples. “I honestly did that.”  
He remembers sending a text. Not yesterday, but the day before – a different party, a different blond beauty on his lap, same thoughts circling in his mind. He remembers sitting on some designer sun-lounger and fighting to put some order into the wildly dancing and turning letters on his screen.

**“Fuck, I wish you would have told me. Why haven’t you told me, idiot?! Why did you just have to go and do that?! I love you. I’ve always loved you and although I know, I could never replace her, I could try. You know, I would give my best. Fuck, I’m so sorry. You’re beautiful and smart and funny and calm and pretty. God, you’re a guy and you’re pretty. That’s unfair. And I fucked it all up. I’m sorry, I love you. I’m sorry, that I love you.”**

Nico buries his face in his hands and wishes he’d fall off the brick wall and hit his head really badly – minor concussion, loss of memory from the Hungary GP onwards? 2017, if possible?

Then he sees the text message, the answer to his own one. A blue bubble filled with white letters, which tears up Nico’s stomach and rips his innards out through the gaping hole.

**“Who is this? Marcus, are you pranking me again? For fanden, not now, I’m having a cake disaster here, man!”**

Had he eaten anything this morning, Nico would vomit everything out of his system in an instant. Of course, Kevin doesn’t have his number and Grosjean’s comment of their non-existent relationship doesn’t have to remind him of that fact, but Nico was completely drunk, when he received that text yesterday. It’s the last indication that connects the dots and draws a clear and stinging picture in Nico’s mind. He drowned his phone in the pool and himself in sangria after he read that text.  
“Jesus Christ!” he mutters under his breath and contemplates opening the beer bottle, when his phone chimes in his hand. He nearly drops it and once he deciphers the name flashing across the screen, his frown deepens even more.

“Danny-boy, what’s up?”  
“Enjoying your vacation?”  
Nico chews on his lower lip, desperately trying to interpret Daniel’s tone. His team mate calling him is a first and given the circumstances it’s even stranger.  
“Yeah, I do, thanks. What can I do for you?”  
“First of all, cutting the bullshit. What happened? Is it because of the wedding?”  
Nico tries to laugh, huff and swallow at the same time and ends up coughing.  
“What?!”  
“You heard me, Nico. Maybe you’re unaware of the fact, that your so called vacation looks like you’re on a desperate run from your feelings, but I’m not. You don’t look like you’re having fun. You look miserable, man, and I care about you. That’s why I’m calling.”  
Nico lifts the phone from his ear, looks at the name and is surprised to actually see “Daniel Ricciardo RS” flashing across the screen.  
“What?”  
“Jeepers, are you still drunk?”  
Nico contemplates the answer and hears Daniel laugh incredulously.  
“Never mind, mate. Just... tell me, what’s going on. Ever since Hungary you’re acting strange.”  
“We haven’t seen each other since Hungary.”  
It’s a defence mechanism, to ask counter questions, provoking, deflecting the truth.  
“Wow, you actually were shitfaced, weren’t you?” Now there’s true worry hidden in Daniel’s heavy Australian accent. “You called me yesterday and, man, you really sounded awful. You kept talking about some strange wedding and how it killed you and _he_ had no clue, who you are.”  
Nico whines softly and his former plan of drowning himself finally makes it onto his to-do-list.

Daniel seems to accept it as an answer, because he clears his throat and sniffles softly.  
“And because I’m a good team mate and I really want to help you, I googled my ass off this morning and what can I say? I’m to equal parts astonished and not surprised at all.”  
“That doesn’t make any sense.”  
“As does you falling in love with Kevin Magnussen.”  
Silence. Nico listens to the waves rolling towards the shore and breaking at the beach with a soft whooshing sound. Dishes rattle in the background, maybe Daniel’s mum setting the table for breakfast.

“I don’t-“  
“Oh, spare me.” Daniel sounds borderline annoyed and Nico gulps frantically. “Listen, I know it now, okay? And it all makes sense now, too. Your act in Hungary, when you flirted with Max in front of Kevin.”  
“I didn’t…”  
“You called him pancake!”  
“Jealous?”  
“As fuck, but that’s not the point. You wanted to make him jealous and it didn’t work. You provoked him on track and it didn’t work. You’re serious about him, aren’t you?”  
Nico wants to say something, he really does, but his mind goes completely blank, when the realisation hits him like a train. _Yeah, I am._  
Daniel sighs and clicks his tongue.  
“Listen, mate. I don’t care, who you’re dating. Not even if it’s a rival. Not even if it’s Kevin of all people. But, Nico? He’s getting married. Tomorrow.”  
“Don’t you think, I know that? Why do you think, I fled south?!”  
“I don’t know? Good weather? Wait a sec, was that a _Game of Thrones_ reference?”

Part of Nico wants to hug Daniel for his terrible sense of humour and weak attempt to lighten the mood. The other part just wants to break down and cry.  
He decides to steer a middle course and tells Daniel everything. About his dreams, about the moment he realised he fell in love with someone head over heels just to lose it in the very same second. Daniel listens patiently and covers himself with an unusual silence.  
In the end Nico sniffles and shakes his head.  
“I just fucked up, Daniel, it’s as simple as that. I lost.”

There is a small pause before the Aussie audibly loses a fight against himself and sighs.  
“Do you remember Le Mans? 2015, the year you drove for Porsche? Did you know that Kevin was there as a spectator, when you won the damn thing?”  
“He was there?”  
“Mh-mh, he was. I’m not into that esoteric crap, but maybe he’s your lucky charm, mate. Maybe it was some weird kind of sign or something.”  
Nico fidgets with the by now empty and soggy paper of his coffee cup and frowns.

“What are you trying to say? That I should highjack a plane, travel all the way up to Roskilde and crash his damn _wedding_?!”  
“I’d rent a car, if I were you. A road-trip will give you enough time to think about something to say to him.”  
“Jesus, Daniel…” _Don’t plant that seed…_  
“What? I’m a romantic and it would definitely look just like you two.” He can hear Daniel grin widely through the line.  
“I can’t do that. Daniel, he wants to _marry_ her.”  
“So you’re just going to wail in self-pity until you grow tired of it all and start hating his guts for real after years of longing? Not on my watch.”  
“Jesus Christ, I don’t even know where the wedding will take place, what to say, what to wear, how to get there!”  
He bites his tongue until the taste of blood ghosts through his mouth. He is tempted to just hang up and open the damned beer bottle. Drown it all out again, find a different motorsport, a different country, a different _damned_ planet to disappear to and hide in.

And suddenly –  
Nico closes his eyes and watches the images flickering through his mind instead. It skims through the shock, the fights, the aftermath and to different scenarios: Kevin grinning at him, Nordic eyes lightning up with affection instead of resentment for once and soft fingers curling between his own in a tender motion.  
He tears open his eyes and clenches his jaw.  
“How much time do I have?”  
“28 hours and you’re going to need every last one of them.”


	2. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all…
> 
> YOU BUNCH OF AWESOME PEOPLE!!  
I never thought this would get such a brilliant feedback. Thank you so much, folks, it’s so much fun writing this and spinning this utterly unrealistic and strange story xD  
Special thanks to my favourite Nudel (a.k.a. **thegreatgasly** for being a never drying up source of inspiration and great conversations!  
And to **Speechbubble** for her great comment and (most of all) reminding me of something very important, I forgot to mention in the notes of the first chapter:  
I don’t mean to disrespect Louise. She is such a sweet woman and seems really nice and generous. I hope, that Kevin and she will stay healthy and happy together for as long as they both live.  
Really, this is just fiction and I honestly fought with myself over writing this story.
> 
> I mean no harm whatsoever, this is just my brain going apeshit and fantasising ruthlessly over two hotties with history. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who’s willing to stick with me through this and to the end of this story.
> 
> Have fun, guys ;)  


Nico isn’t one for hoping.  
He understands the concept of hope, of course, and how it can fuel and frighten people to the same amounts. He, too, hopes for some things in his life to go well. He wants his parents to stay healthy. He wants to stay safe during races. He wants to be happy. But he never succumbed to the urge of falling to his knees and praying to some entity in the clouds. He always believed to be in control of his own destiny and happiness and that hard work and dedication were the keys to both. But he’s never been in love and the realisation how utterly _powerless_ he feels right now makes a shiver run down his spine despite the heat.  
While he follows the coast roads north he doubts this character trait he calls his own.  
And he starts praying.

Nico crosses the German border around noon and stops at a small and shabby gas station to stretch his legs. He yawns and clings to his by now sixth coffee of the day.  
His fingers are icy cold and jittery despite the hot sun warming up his tired cheeks. Vitamins seep through his skin and leaning against the hood of his rental BMW with closed eyes Nico smiles. Surrounded by the deep Bavarian Forrest the motorway is just a faint whooshing in his ears and the scent of the ocean is nothing but a stale remnant in the fabric of his shirt.  
Nico feels re-energized and it’s a deeper sensation than the superficial buzz of caffeine coursing through his veins.  
_Daniel is right_, he thinks, _not just about the damn car_.  
He’s had time to think it through, weigh possibilities and outcomes and he still has never been more scared in his entire life. He tries to calm down his heartbeat and fails.  
He’s scared of being too late.  
He’s scared of being rejected.  
Most of all he’s scared of hurting Kevin.  
Doubt creeps up his shirt sleeves with frozen fingers tearing at his skin and he fears he’ll open his mouth and nothing will come out. He fears he’ll be a coward instead of voicing the most important words of his life. He licks his lips and sends a short text to Daniel, before getting into the car again.  
Daniel actually functions as his navigation system throughout the whole trip. He’s the one who sent him the address of a local car rental in Croatia.  
Just as Nico passes Munich, he texts him a Danish address with a winking emoji and a yellow heart, before adding a second address of a tailor shop.  
**”I told them to hurry up and gave them your measurements back from Cannes. Hope you didn’t turn fat, Bro.”**  
Nico scoffs and turns off at the next exit.  
Miraculously the simple midnight blue suit is ready to be picked up when Nico arrives and he lefts a hefty tip for the tired looking saleswoman.  
Standing on the pavement of the chicest part of Munich’s pedestrian area, he ponders on what to do next. As if summoned Daniel sends him a text. **Did you pick up the suit? Then go and take a nap, mate. I checked you into a nice little hotel around the corner. Relax a bit. Drive safe.”**  
Nico hugs Daniel mentally and then follows his incoming description to the hotel. 

He takes a shower, but once he’s refreshed and has eaten something from the Old Bavarian menu, he gets itchy again. The television can’t take his mind off of his plan, Kevin, the longing tearing at him. He scrolls through several social media platforms and ends up on Kevin’s various profiles again and again, until he discards his phone with a grunt.  
He packs his stuff, slips into the new suit, checks out of the hotel and a few minutes later he’s on the road again.

Nico has always enjoyed driving up north. The landscape outside relentlessly changes from the lofty heights of the alpine upland over wide and green hills spotted with industrial and mediaeval cities alike. The sun sets while forests make way for scattered bushed. Nico turns on the radio and it fills the night with mindless sound as Nico sits back a little bit and watches the milometer counting up his covered mileage. He isn’t used to Endurance Racing anymore but he likes a good night-drive and this one is no different. It demands more focus than during the day and it’s just the right thing to keep his mind occupied enough to keep him from spiralling down into his fearful thoughts again. 

He makes one little pause to refuel the car, as a fresh breeze caries over the smell of salty sea air. Nico smirks and gets behind the wheel again, just to watch the sunrise on the last stage of his journey.  
Sand moves inland, swallows the softly rising hills and turns them into white dunes, which glisten in the tiredly rising sun.  
His fingers tremble, when he crosses the border. Denmark. _Finally_.  
The landscape changes again, but he can’t concentrate on the steep Fjords, the tiny fisher villages, the colourful roofs. Maybe (just maybe) Kevin will show him all that in the future.  
Nico bites his tongue and steps on the throttle.

Nico arrives at the venue and turns off the engine which dies with a calmly ticking noise as if to sooth his sizzling nerves. His breathing grew shallow on the way up the beautiful hill and the old farmhouse decorated with white balloons and paper hearts towers in front of him.  
Nico rests his chin on the steering wheel for a second and looks at the beige wood of the house, the lavish veranda and the alley of trees lining up the wide garden. Wild raspberry bushes are weighed down with fresh fruits and a soft breeze plays with the chains of light decorating scattered oak trees.  
Downhill the thickening forest blocks the view onto a sparkling lake supplied by many dappling streams from the mountains lining the beautiful scenery.  
Nico tries to calm his trembling hands and wipes down sweat onto the new and by now wrinkled suit.  
He gets out of the car and walks around the house, following the noise of people chattering.

There he is. There they are. Kevin in a rather bright blue suit, Louise in beautiful white lace. He is beautiful. They are beautiful.

Nico’s steps grow hesitant and he stops still near a huge oak tree. His heart is in his mouth and he leans against the cool bark.  
A voice tells him to turn around and leave, to leave and never look back. It tells him to not ruin a happy couple meant for each other.  
His phone vibrates in his jacket and Nico fumbles for it with shaking and ashen hands.  
It’s Daniel.  
**”You got this, bro. You’ll see, it’ll all work out once you start talking. Tell him everything and more, be true to him and yourself. It’ll work, Nico. Trust me.”**

It’s more than a nudge. It’s a shove into cold water and at the same time a warm embrace from a true friend. 

Nico doesn’t borrow the cliché to wait for the priest to ask for anyone who can show any reason why this couple cannot be joined in matrimony. (He holds his breath and feels his legs moving.)  
He doesn’t think about anything else but Kevin standing there and smiling while rays of sun draw artful patterns into his hair. (Petals rustle underneath his dress shoes.)  
He doesn’t look at any of the guests frowning, as a tall blond German storms down the aisle, tired and rumbled.  
All he can think of is-

“Kevin…” it’s just a whisper and still sounds like a scream in his ears. 

Kevin turns toward him and Nico feels like collapsing on the spot.  
“H-hülkenberg? What?” A nervous chuckle. “What the hell are you doing here?”  
“I don’t know.” Nico gasps, unable to look at anything else but Kevin’s grey eyes, their shade almost blue, steely, joyous, sceptical. Nico swallows and clears his throat. “Wait, I… I came to tell you something!”  
An amused sound escapes Kevin’s lips, his hand (_without the ring! I’m right in time! Jesus, I made it!_) delicately holding Louise’s, who looks equally astonished as her groom. 

“Where do I even start?” Nico gasps and laughs at himself and the mere fact his brain lost every single thread of thought he so thoroughly knitted into a picture over the last twenty-something hours. “Puh, okay. I know, I have no right to be here and believe me, I have no clue, what I’m doing here, either. Hours of driving left my brain kind of squishy. I was _so_ close to driving off the highway when I passed Emmerich, I just…” His voice falters a little and Kevin swallows drily, still holding Louise’s hand firmly in his own. “I really tried to stay away from this, from you. You look so beau- you look really good and happy and I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” Nico is about to turn around on his heels, when he hears Kevin huff.

“Wait a second!” Kevin mumbles and an incredulous laugh escapes his dry lips. “It was you! That text from a couple of days ago… you sent that.”  
Nico tilts back his head and sees the elegantly decorated branches of the old oak tree hovering above them. He has to bite back tears all of a sudden.  
“I just couldn’t bear with myself anymore. And I was extremely drunk.” He oddly reflects Kevin’s annoyed laughter with a strained chuckle that suspiciously sounds like a sob. “I tried to swallow it, I really did. I tried to bury it deep down and lock it away and never look at it again, but I failed. Okay? I failed miserably and that’s why I’m here.”  
_On my knees, begging, if you want_, Nico thinks, because _damn, you’re so beautiful_.  
“Either you want me or you don’t, but I need this to be over, I need clarity and a closure to this. So send me away or keep me.” Nico had talked without breathing once and now he sucks in air rapidly, filling his lungs and contemplating his next words. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you and it pissed me of and that’s why you pissed me of. But more than anything else, I want you to be happy. No explanation, no reason. Send me away or keep me.” He says one more time, hands trembling, breath stuck in his windpipe. “It took me so long to figure it out, but-“ he throws a quick side glance at Louise, whose expression is unreadable. “I love you. I want you to be happy.”  
Kevin lifts a hand and despite it being a slow movement by soft hands Nico feels like his words have been shred to pieces much like the red threat of his speech, he so blatantly abandoned minutes ago – if he ever really followed it in the first place. 

“You want me to be happy.” Kevin repeats and blinks as if he’d just been woken up, his face blank and features indecisive. “Just let me get this straight. You treated me like shit for years. I was in pieces for months, because I actually had some kind of weird crush on you. Then I’m finally getting over you and the kindest and most beautiful woman takes a liking in me and agrees to marry me. And then you show up on my fucking _wedding_ and declare in all seriousness you loved me all along?!”  
Nico takes a step back, when Kevin’s eyes dart at him and the muscle underneath his eye twitches with suppressed anger. Kevin walks down the aisle, towards Nico, into the wrong direction, fury flashing across his features. He stops in front of Nico and stares him dead in the eyes.  
“I’ve got one question for you. _Are you fucking kidding me?!_” 

With that he raises his hand and punches Nico square in the face. He hears his guests, his family and friends gasp in shock, but he couldn’t care less. Red anger and white noise makes him blind and deaf to their reaction.  
He scoffs and storms away from his own wedding gathering.

Kevin ruffles his hair and nearly slips on the wet stones. His hand throbs as he stretches his fingers.  
He’s found a quite spot down by the river, right next to a small stream of water only running down the side of the hill during the summer weeks and dry in the winter, when the glaciers are solidly frozen again. He often spent time here as a child and caught tadpoles with his dad. Later on they brought Luca along and taught him how to build a small dam to keep the tadpoles from slipping over the mossy stones.  
Nico would like i- _No_!  
Kevin trudges down to the shore and back to the trees over and over again tumbling over the uneven ground as much as over his wildly pacing thoughts.  
“How can he-? What is he-? That prick!”  
His heart leaps through his chest in an off-beat frantic rhythm and it makes him nauseas.  
“Babe?”  
Louise approaches him like a wood fairy, like the shadow of a transcendent dream, a goddess in white ghosting through the bushes followed by a silky bridal veil and the image makes Kevin wipe his stinging eyes.  
“There you are.”  
She says and sits down on a rock, ignoring the moss wetting her wedding gown. Kevin at her with no words to offer. What could he _possibly_ say to make this right?  
“This wasn’t what I had in mind for today.” Louise chuckles and digs her naked toes into the soft leaves. “But you certainly didn’t, either, did you?”  
“I’m so sorry, love.” It’s a soft gasp, spoken into her blond hair as Kevin leans in and presses a kiss to her head, right above the artful knot holding the white veil in place. His voice is dry sandpaper in his mouth.  
“Let’s go back. Maybe he’s gone by now.”  
Louise looks up at him, humming softly.  
“Is that what you want?”  
“What?” Surprise. Worry.  
“God, Kevin, he looks miserable. He’s suffering. He came all the way to Denmark to confess that he loves you and I-” she stops still for a second, fingertips ghosting over her rosé painted lips. “I believe him, Kevin. He looked serious.”  
“It’s not our concern. I don’t care. I want you. I want you, Louise. You make me happy, I trust you. I love you!”  
“I know. Kevin, it’s our wedding day, you don’t have to convince me of anything. But…”  
She bites her lip and stares at him intently. 

Kevin ruffles his hair and wishes the stream next to him would be deep enough to drown himself in it.  
“How can he say, that he loves me and that he puts my happiness before his own, and at the same time he _crashes my fucking wedding_?!”  
“You still don’t care about him? This, seeing him like this, didn’t touch you in the slightest?”  
Kevin bites his lip and groans. Louise sees it and chuckles. Her smile is warm and tender, when she gets up and walks up to her groom.  
“It did hurt you, didn’t it?” A whisper against his chin as she hugs him. “Kevin, I know you better than anyone else in the entire world. That’s why we’re doing this, right? But I’ve seen the look on your face, when he said all those beautiful things.” She sniffles and Kevin sees how forcefully she has to suppress the urge to cry. “I wish you would have looked at me the same way when I walked down that aisle.” Kevin huffs in pain, presses his lips against her forehead. _She is right, isn’t she?_, the voice in his head jeers without mercy on his heart. Louise swallows drily. “You were _so_ happy to see him. Then the anger took over, because you thought, it was over, and now there he is and proves it isn’t.”  
Kevin feels tears swimming in his eyes and blinks them away.  
“It _is_ over.” He mutters, but Louise shakes her head.  
“Apparently it’s not. At least, not for Nico. What happened between you two? What made you hate him so badly you don’t even care, if he suffers?”  
Kevin detangles himself from the embrace and starts pacing again, hands raised in a desperate gesture. 

“Why are you even pressing on that subject? Why is that of any importance right now?”  
He says it, because it’s the possible strategy his spinning mind can come up with. Deflect and hide. 

Louise smiles and what should have been the beautiful smile of a woman on the happiest day of her life ends up to be sadness ghosting over her lips. Kevin hears her heart break.  
“We love, who we love and despite everything. I know, you love me and I believe you, Kevin, I really do. You’re a good man and my best friend. Though, I knew from the beginning, what I was getting into and that I will never truly have you for your heart belongs to another.”  
Kevin bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds while shaking his head rapidly.  
“And I know, that you would have tried your best to make me happy, because it’s what you do and I couldn’t love you more for it. But you would have lied to yourself forever. Please, don’t make me watch as you deny yourself happiness.”  
Kevin wipes his face and catches tears from falling with his thumb. His heart feels like exploding with everything at nothing at once.  
“I don’t want to leave you, Lou.”  
“You don’t have to. I’m setting you free. I did it the second I saw Nico.”  
With that she takes a step in his direction and kisses his cheeks, tender lips and familiar touches that feel like a rusty blade slicing through Kevin’s chest.  
On a day that should have been a beautiful party with his friends, the celebration of love and the start of the rest of his life, turns out to be a disastrous catastrophe.  
Louise pulls away and the smile she bestows him with now is warm and confident.  
“It’s okay. I love you, Kevin, but I love myself more and I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice. I don’t want to marry my best friend, I want a shot at real love and it has to be requited in the same way. We accept the love, we think we deserve. But neither of us deserves to be unhappy.”

She steps back and gathers up her dress, gorgeous and strong. Kevin licks his lips, which are dry as dust.  
“What are we going to do with all this?” he asks and points up the top of the hill, the farmhouse and the parking lot filled with cars.  
Louise looks back at him and smirks.  
“There is cake, Kevin. I’m not going to let that go to waste. I’ll handle the family and buy you some time. Your mom is furious you punched someone in Luca’s presence, though.”  
Kevin laughs and can’t stop the tears from falling now. He watches on, as Louise climbs up the hill again, a white spot in all that green and brown.  
“I love you.” He whispers and has never meant it more seriously than in this very moment. 

Kevin stands there for what feels like an eternity and a half, staring down at the water in front of him. The setting sun sets the lake ablaze and the softly wavering surface looks like a million fireworks exploding. Kevin takes off his jacket and his shoes, slips out of his waistcoat and his socks.  
He trots down to the shore, hissing at the pain of tiny stones pressing into his soles.  
The water is cold, an icy flame licking at his skin. Kevin smiles. 

His mind goes strangely blank, muted by the numbing cold around his feet and the sun warming his face.  
With his hands buried in the pockets of his suit pants Kevin watches the sunset and feels a chapter of his life closing.  
He basks in the memories of all the little moments that made Louise and life with her so special. The way she treats Elsa, how much Luca loves her. All the relaxed evenings at home, her determination to get him to try oysters and the outcome…  
Kevin sighs and a different picture slides into his conscious. Nico. The desperation in his voice earlier today. But different images, too. Some photoshoots Kevin stumbled upon in some magazines that looked too tempting to not risk a glance.  
Nico resembles that kind of beauty, that is more perfect and flattering the lesser he tries. A snapshot of a soft smile is more beautiful than a cheeky grin from any professional camera.  
Kevin questions himself whether he wants to take those kind of photos in the future.

He concentrates on breathing until his feet are numb and the sun climbs down until the forest looks like an inferno of red, orange and purple.  
He smiles internally, when his heart skips a beat.  
“I haven’t done this in years.” Kevin says without bothering to turn around, sensing Nico’s presence more than anything else. “We’re so used to stick to regulations and rules and conventions, sport-wise as well as in society, that we forget how wet grass feels underneath our naked feet.”  
A moment later he hears a soft splashing sound and Nico appears to his left. He rolled up his shirt sleeves and unbuttoned it enough to make the pale skin of his throat protrude from the fabric, golden in the fading sunlight. He doesn’t say a word.  
“I want my life to be dictated by rules as little as possible. It’s hard enough to stick to them in the sport anyway.”  
Nico laughs a quick laugh, clicks his tongue and tilts his head. It makes Kevin once and for all realise that he is truly here, live and in colour.  
He licks his lips and frowns.  
“Okay, truth be told, I have no clue what you were thinking. And I won’t forgive you for ruining my wedding. And I can’t promise you, it- we will work. Us, together, I mean.” Kevin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and looks at Nico for the first time in hours. His nose is starting to swell already and the cheek bone is turning slightly blueish. Kevin shakes his head. “Alright, let’s try that again. Listen. You’re an idiot. You really are. But what you did, was the bravest and at the same time most lunatic thing anyone has ever done for me.” Nico sniffles and Kevin realises how close he is to bursting into tears. “To be honest, I have no idea, how to do all this. A million people, including my family, are going to want to kill me, you know? Louise is devastated. I need…”  
Kevin stops and realises he has no clue what he actually needs.  
Nico does and it still isn’t words.

He walks up to him and closes his arms around Kevin in the first and at the same time truest hug Kevin has ever been pulled into. He automatically puts his hands on Nico’s back, feeling trembling muscles underneath the fine fabric, smelling the odour of a rental car, aftershave and need. 

Sincerity underneath all that arrogance,  
solidity layered with deflection,  
love found beneath years of resentment.  
Kevin takes a shaky intake of breath and lifts his head from Nico’s shoulder. The image of his mind now fits the one in front of him. Nico smiles at him shyly, eyes rimmed red and his hair’s a mess.  
Kevin remembers Louise’s words.  
We _like_ people, _because_ of the way they are and we _love_ people _despite_ the way they are. 

Kevin places a hand on Nico’s hand and is surprised it doesn’t tremble like a leaf. His skin is warm and dry, comfort and strength.  
“I need this.” Kevin murmurs and corrects himself instantly. “I need you.”  
Then he leans in and kisses Nico.  
He downright senses a chapter of his life closing.  
Another one, a bright one, opens in front of him. 

Nico sighs against his lips, one hand slipping into his hair and pulling him even closer.  
Kevin breaks the kiss and looks Nico in the eyes, oceanic blue in the middle of a lake of liquid fire.  
One chapter closes. One chapter opens. 

Kevin arrives home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...  
Chapter closed, story done. The next one will surely come!  
What do you think? Are you happy with that ending?  
I listened to Dermot Kennedy's album "without fear" so many times while writing this, feel inspired to check it out.^^ 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr **charonaraccoon**, as usual. 
> 
> Stay tuned for other weird stuff...  
Until then, read you soon!
> 
> Charona


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